November 19

Eighteenth Tuesday after Trinity

I have created him for My glory. Isaiah 43:7.

PICTURE to yourself a seraph dwelling amidst us, would you not note and marvel at shadows of imperfection in him which you would pass unnoticed even in holy men? And in like manner, in those whose vocation brings them nearer to God than other men, little specks, scarce visible in others, become blemishes and hindrances. The greater God's love for any soul, the greater is the perfection which He requires of that soul. Where love is the measure, nothing is small. Even among ourselves we are far more sensitive to a slight failing in any one we love dearly than to a much greater defect in one indifferent. Remember all that each redeemed soul has cost its Saviour; remember all He continually does for His own. What devotion would you expect from one for whom you had offered your life, upon whom you were daily showering every conceivable benefit? And how bitterly would you feel neglect and ingratitude even in little things from such a one. You must not forget that while there is this special claim upon your loving obedience in the minutest matters, you are likewise assisted to render it by the special grace which your dear Lord never fails to impart to those whom He calls to follow Him. Be sure that if you meet and correspond to that grace, you will find strength to conquer and put away all these trifles which mar your perfect obedience.

Plant, Lorde, in me the tree of godly lyfe, Hedge me about with Thy strong fence of faith; If thee it please, use eke Thy pruning-knife, Lest that, O Lord! as a good gardener saith If suckers draw the sappe from bowes on hie, Perhaps in tyme the top of tree may die. Let, Lord, this tree be set within Thy garden wall Of Paradise, where growes no one ill sprig at all.